(I love you)

It was yet early, as dawn streaks had begun to trail though the grey sky. Emma swept through the early morning empty-as-New-York-gets crowd, her internal compass' needle set to the magnetism of Brooklyn's mighty bridge.

No matter Emma's mood, she loved her city. Working her way through it's streets and alleys brought her a small, unconscious joy which subtly soothed her. The longer she walked, the slower her pace grew, until she was strolling contentedly along her path, having convinced herself that she was in no hurry. She stretched, easing the morning stiffness from her back and shoulders, realizing that the chilly morning was exactly to her liking.

A small, open market had opened trade to a few gathered neighbors. Despite knowing her little sabbatical left her without spare change for a treat, Emma wandered closer. She gave a cursory inspection of the goods and a fluttering smile without slowing.

One, familiar object registered adverse familiarity.

"Doilies?" she mused to herself and then, eyes widening in instant, horrible understanding, "Oh, Da—!"

Even before Emma had finished her mental expletive, a hand shot out of the adjoining booth and caught her shoulder. Emma didn't need to look to know which arm and body would accompany the slender fingers.

"Good morning Sarah," she sighed.

"Morning," Sarah's voice was devoid of it's usual bounce. The tone struck Emma as being unaffected and gentle. Adding voice and previous experience up, Emma came up with a distinct inequality. The equation forced Emma to focus on the girl in front of her, if only to ensure that this was Sarah.

Emma's current bad luck saw no reason for any sort of about face now, and pointed out, smugly, that there was no mistaking the individual Sarah Jacobs.

"I was wondering," Sarah's face was honest, "If I might talk to you for a moment," she indicated a small alley, just out of earshot but still visible from the market.

Intrigued by Sarah's chosen location and straightforward demeanor, Emma disregarded her better judgment and bit back the I have anywhere else to be/over my dead and decaying cadaver/gotta go which she had prepared. She nodded slowly and followed Sarah cautiously down the narrow path.

There was a moment of empty and painful silence between them as Sarah wiped her hands on an apron, Emma fiddled with one of her many pockets and both girls took extreme measures to study the bricks of the adjacent walls.

Finally, a small determined sigh from Sarah entered the stale air. "I need to apologies," she confessed stoutly, while Emma, shocked and silenced by this surreal admission, kindly blamed Sarah's pink cheeks on the chill weather.

"David spoke to me last night and," the seamstress continued "I see that I was…" she hesitated, unable to find the right word.

"…a little oblivious," Emma supplied, gently.

Sarah nodded humbly and the uneasy silence returned. Sarah seemed to be deciding what to say next. Emma was content to wait, quietly absorbing what she had been told.

"Also," Sarah began again, uncertainly, "And I'm only saying this because…I would want to know," the stipulation was rushed but Emma gleaned the implied 'not because I like you'.

"But Blink planned that evening. He paid David to invite you."

Emma's eyes bugged a bit. "Um…thank you," she told Sarah, managing not to stumble over the words.

Sarah nodded absently, allowing a measure of time to pass before asking, earnestly "We won't ever be friends, will we?"

Emma tilted her head, sincerely considering this peculiar question. "I don't think we can be," she concluded finally.

Sarah gave her a tight, acknowledging, smile.

With the smile, a melancholy flame lit and extinguished in Sarah's eyes, so rapidly, that Emma wasn't even positive she had seen it flicker there. Impulsively, she blurted "But, I wont forget the favor, Sarah," softening her candid answer.

There was a moment, again, of silence, contemplative and easy now. A crash of hooves on stone broke the flash of understanding and the girls parted ways without another word or glance.

But the gears and cogs in both girls minds were whirring with the other's newly discovered depth. And Emma's heart and mind had, lamentably, further twined themselves together.

When you review, a unicorn gets an A in geometry.